Joy knew her heart would always remain in Venice, and she imagined a frantic Dina working in the flower shop at that exact moment. Perhaps she was preparing for a reception or a party or, heaven forbid, a funeral service.
But whatever Dina was doing back at the flower shop, she was doing it without Joy’s help, and that made her heart hurt.
Heading back to New York didn’t feel as exciting as Joy thought it would, since she was as alone going home as she had been on the train to Venice.
Such was life. Joy sighed and stared out the window, wondering what Alessandro was doing. Her heart sank as she missed him.
Then her mind switched to Jaime and the upcoming wedding. That thought brought a wide smile to her face.
But then Alessandro came back to her mind.
Removing her journal from her bag, Joy thought more about her time with him.
With Alex, I felt at home. Talking with him, walking with him brought me so much peace and rest…rest for my mind and heart. It’s easy to be around him. Not like with Tony.
Being with Alex is definitely like coming home.
But how can that be? We only just met.
She thought of Edith and Martin and their whirlwind romance.
I get it now. Edith and Martin met then immediately fell in love because they had so much in common.
Alex and I have wounded hearts in common. Amazing daughters in common. Love of flowers in common. Love of Italy in common.
She smiled.
The farm in Caorle beach, the garden, cooking with his daughter, friends, and family. I get all of it now.
Family is everything, just like Alex said to me.
But he lives here in Venice and I live in New York. How could it work?
Are all things possible with God? Do I believe that? I want to believe it. Help me believe it…
She glanced out the window.
“Heading home?” the woman next to her asked.
Joy nodded without looking away from the window.
“Where to?”
“New York. And you?”
“New Jersey.” The woman, older than Joy, used a finger to set aside her white hair from her eyes. “And back to work after a two-week Italian vacation.”
“Yeah. It’s hard to leave such a beautiful place.” Joy faced her.
“Were you here on business or pleasure?” The woman winked.
“Both, actually.” Joy laughed a bit.
“Tell me all about it. We have a few hours to kill.” The woman shifted in her seat to face Joy.
“Well, it all started with a photography contest I entered . . .” Joy chuckled.
The Uber driver stopped in front of the house, lit from inside that late spring evening. Joy hadn’t been home since early April. It looked even more beautiful than she remembered. She gathered her belongings, looking forward to seeing her daughter again. Jaime had been house-sitting for her the last couple of weeks, and from the looks of the flowers and green lawn, she’d been doing a good job. Joy smiled.
“Need help with luggage?” the driver asked.
“Please.” Joy exited and stretched her back. Stiff and sore after twenty hours of flying, she felt every one of her fifty-six years.
“Hey!” Michael emerged from the house with Jaime close behind.
Joy waved. “Hi, sweetie!”
Michael grabbed her bag and wheeled it to the door as Jaime embraced Joy there on the sidewalk.
“Mom, you’re home. I’m so glad.” Jaime pecked her cheek.
Joy relaxed into the warm embrace of her only child. “It’s so good to be home, honey.” She pulled away and swept some of Jaime’s hair away from her face. “You look beautiful. So happy.”
“I am, Mom. Especially now that you’re home. Come inside. Are you hungry? There’s food. I cooked, can you believe it? Me, cooking?” Jaime laughed.
Joy walked with her arm around Jaime’s waist, relishing her voice and funny stories about house-sitting, the nosy neighbors, and making table decorations for the wedding reception.
